


Inconsistency

by hlmedinfl



Category: Makai Ouji: Devils and Realist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-11-01 08:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10918518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlmedinfl/pseuds/hlmedinfl
Summary: What's been forgotten probably won't hurt you.At least, that's what Uriel thinks when he takes Sitri's memories away.





	Inconsistency

**Author's Note:**

> I just couldn't help thinking about possible endings for Sitri and how he was really happy with himself for making top waiter or something in that one extra. And well, this is the happiest thing I could come up with.

A whistle of steam woke Sitri up suddenly. He couldn't recall the dream he'd been having, but he didn't think it had been a particularly good one. At least the bed was comfortable, soft down and warm.

There were other noises, too—sounds of clinking and the steady stream of liquid pouring into a cup—but whoever was making those sounds was in another room. He couldn't make out much from where he was lying: just a hallway, and perhaps another door farther down. The house seemed modest and not one he remembered being in before.

Where _had_ he been before?

He remembered little things: the clinking of wine glasses in Hell, the smell of the dying, autumn leaves in Stratford's forest, but he couldn't piece anything together. The sounds and smells blended into one, nonsensical and inconsistent feelings that couldn't have possibly happened at the same time or in the same place.

Yet, when Sitri tried to remember how he'd ended up here, he only ended up with a hot, white, searing pain, as if someone had taken a cigarette to his memories.

A clinking brought his attention back to the doorway. Uriel stood there, holding a tray of tea.

"Uriel?"

"So you're back. William will be happy." He set the tray on a little table and came closer.

 _Back_. Not awake. As if he had gone somewhere.

"William? Is he okay?" Wasn't there something he had to tell William about? Something important? The burning in his head flared up again.

"Yes. It's over now," Uriel said.

"Over?"

"The apocalypse. Heaven, Hell, and the fight for power. It's over." Uriel's dry tone made it sound like an anti-climax, like some sort of recollection of an unpleasant experience at a dinner party.

"I-I remember…" It was at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't say it.

"Don't force yourself," Uriel chided.

"So everything is alright?"

"Yes, most things are." There was no emotion in those words, as if it hadn't been a happy ending. But neither had it been a sad one. Things had just ended, as far as Sitri could tell.

"Where are we?"

"We're in a cottage near Camio's estate in Guernsey. William and the others are still up at the house."

"Then why are we…"

"I couldn't stand to stay in the same house as a demon, present company excepted."

It seemed that Uriel wasn't giving him much time to think. His answers were quick, to the point. There was nothing that felt left out, and yet Sitri felt as if he were grasping at this new information for fear that it might get away.

"I have… there's so many things that I don't understand… I can't remember…" His thoughts felt like a swarm of motionless insects in the midsummer air. One simple thing would send them scattering.

"Of course, that's to be expected." Uriel's cool gaze never broke. "I stole your memories."

"Uriel, you—" Sitri tried to inch farther away from him, but Uriel did not move.

"Not all of them, but perhaps more than I needed to."

"You bastard! Give them back now!"

No wonder there were white spots in his mind. No wonder he felt so confused. So _useless_ …

"I can," Uriel said with the same neutral expression was on his face as before. "But I won't be able to hold anything back. You'll have to take all of them, the good ones and the bad."

"I don't care, just give me—"

_There was a glimmer of light, the feeling of cloth so unimaginably soft and warm. There was a smell, too. He knew it well, but—_

"…there. How are you feeling?"

Uriel's face came into focus. Sitri looked around. He was in the same, plain-looking room.

"W-what was that?"

"A memory."

"That wasn't a memory, those were just…" scents and feelings and… "sensations."

"Do you still want them?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

_There was a crack as harsh and loud as thunder overhead. His head ached and darkness was seeping in. But he had to get to William. He had to, but he couldn't stop them. He was too weak. He knew it wouldn't be long until…_

"Aah!" He came back with a gasp, and his hand went instinctively for his cheek. The phantom pain throbbed.

"Shh… it's over now," Uriel said in a whisper. His face didn't show concern, but it wasn't sinister either. But then, at least part of Sitri knew, that Uriel was a good actor.

"Wait, how do I know this isn't a trick?"

Uriel's cool eyes seemed to bore into him with uncomfortable precision. A hand flew at him, as if from nowhere, and slapped him across the cheek. He went to bite back at Uriel, _but Uriel wasn't there. It was a dark, strange place. Cold sweat clung to Sitri's skin. If only he hadn't been so weak, then maybe…_

"I've done this to humans many times before," Uriel was saying. The brightness in the room hurt Sitri's eyes. He couldn't keep track of how quickly the memories came and went. "I've looked into their memories to find things, and I've taken the things that needed to be forgotten."

"You… you did that to me?" Those words should have held anger, but all Sitri could feel was helpless again.

Uriel nodded.

"Why?"

_The wind howled in his ears. The repugnant scent of Hell clung to his nostrils and wouldn't let go. All around him the world was breaking and he felt…_

_he felt…_

_nothing._

He woke screaming. Uriel, again, was there.

"The apocalypse, it was me, wasn't it?" He remembered the mountains of Hell, oozing lava, and above the sulfur, the smell of death.

"It wasn't just you."

"But I caused so much destruction."

He didn't want to remember anymore. There was too much pain there. Perhaps it was better that Uriel had taken them. He could carry that weight.

Before he could tell Uriel to stop, another memory was rushing over him _. Someone was patting his head. He felt the dry desert air against his skin and smelled cream and tea._

_He looked up._

_Solomon titled his head, eyes slowly drifting from the book he'd been reading._

_"Did I wake you?"_

_"No. I was just daydreaming."_

_Solomon smiled._

_It was a quiet moment. He remembered cherishing it, just him and Solomon._

How could he ever, _ever_ forget Solomon?

The memory fluttered away. "Why did you take those ones?" Sitri asked accusingly. It felt so terribly wrong to forget about Solomon.

"I couldn't choose what I took. I didn't have much time."

Uriel's gaze shifted to the side. "Ah! That reminds me." In moments, Uriel had prepared a warm, if not overly steaming, cup of tea for him. Sitri stirred it around. He liked the smell of it. He wasn't sure why.

For whatever reason, Uriel had joined him with a cup of his own. He sat on a crude little chair far enough away to enjoy his space, close enough to keep an eye on him.

"Your other memories should be coming back now. A bit more subtly than before."

"I know. I can…" _feel them_.

This new batch of memories did not alter reality as the previous ones had. They fit into parts of his mind where they hadn't been before. They weren't clear scenes or events. Just little things, little quirks and things that made him himself.

Still, it surprised him how much he'd had to justify each one. How much he'd told himself it was just because he wasn't strong enough yet. If only he'd been stronger, better…. he could have… then _they_ wouldn't have...

_The angel regarded him, fearful eyes and disdainful whispers._

But even when he'd had that power, he hadn't been the one in control.

"Did I really want power that badly?" Sitri was aware of the sardonic quality of his voice. He knew exactly who it reminded him of.

"You know," said Uriel, staring into his cup, "I once asked William if he wanted power over the demons. You and Dantalion in particular."

"What did he say?" Sitri was grateful for any word about William, no matter if it lumped him together with Dantalion or not. 

A thoughtful smile crept on Uriel's lips. "He refused, of course. He said that if he couldn't handle those ordinary demons, how would he handle Parliament? I think he thought I was joking."

Sitri could picture that. Even without some of his memories, he could imagine William's exact facial expression, a little coy, a little clever. He missed that face.

"W-wait," the realization hit him before he could process it. "How did I remember William and you and Camio? I thought you took my memories."

"I was surprised, in fact," Uriel said. "Just as much as you were. William and the rest of us were embedded deep in your memories. Even deeper than Solomon was. I hadn't expected you to even ask about William before getting your memories back."

Sitri looked at his tea. He hadn't tasted it yet.

Deeper than Solomon? Had he truly been so fickle? And yet, what was there to feel guilty about? All Solomon was now was memories. And William… he was just a few minutes away. It felt like years since he'd last seem him. The anticipation was almost making him sick.

"When can I see William?" he asked.

Uriel gave him an uncomfortable frown. Sitri knew there was still something Uriel was holding back, something he wasn't telling him, but he was smart enough not pry it out at this point.

"So what would you like to do after this?" Uriel asked instead.

"What do you mean?"

"You've surely realized by now what your position in Heaven is."

The answer was almost automatic and completely unapologetic. "I want to go to back to school with William." The angels could sort out their own affairs, and so could the demons, for that matter.

"And when he finishes school? Then what will you do?"

He might have said he would like to go home, but there wasn't a home anymore. Had there ever been one? The memories were coming back faster now. He tried to place exactly where home had been. Surely, he'd had one at some point.

"I… don't know."

"Very well." Uriel's expression turned serious. He placed his cup on the nightstand and then sat straight, his hands flat on his lap. "We, that is to say my employer and I, are prepared to offer you a position of employment at our household. The pay won't be much, but I think it's a position you'd be especially suited for."

"You mean a job?" The realization dawned on him. "At William's house?"

"Yes." Uriel grinned slightly. It was not unlike the gaze he sometimes gave William. "After you've completed your schooling, of course."

Sytry grabbed hold of Uriel's hand and squeezed it hard. "Yes! Yes! I accept." An emotion was flooding over him. He wasn't sure what it was.

Uriel chuckled. "Although, William stipulated you can't complain about scrubbing the floors if we hired you."

"I'll scrub a million floors!"

"Very well." Uriel removed his hand from his gently but forcefully. The fond expression was still on his face. "We'll draft the contract in due time. In the meantime, you can start training under me during school holidays."

Sitri's mind filled with thoughts of his future job. He wanted to get to work right away, what, with ordering the best foods and wines from catalogues, he might even best Uriel.

"When can I start?" Sitri asked.

"Rest first. We'll talk about it later. Right now, there's another matter to discuss." Uriel closed his eyes. His grin faded, although it was not replaced with a frown. "There are other memories, too," Uriel said, softly this time. His face was calm and serene, for once, the spitting image of what humans _thought_ angels were. "Memories that I didn't take from you. Memories that were sealed a long time ago."

Now that he was getting more of them back, Uriel's words didn't come as much of a surprise. In fact, he'd almost been expecting it. He'd always felt incomplete, like something was missing. He'd always thought losing his wings was to blame for it, but not anymore. Never anymore.

"Would you like to see them?" Uriel looked earnest, and scared.

"I…" He'd been well enough without those memories all these years, would they really make a difference? He was wary of these ones, more so than the rest.

And yet, he just had to know.

"…yes."

"Then I'll give you the worst one. Are you ready?"

"I am."

The memory began like it always did. Without warning. Without holding his breath.

Suddenly, he was there.

_Mother's normally serious face had dissolved into laughter._

_Father was smiling, too, and it was strange to see father smile that way. It went against every assumption Sitri had ever made about him._

_But there was nothing strange about it in the memory. He could feel himself smiling, too._

_Because they didn't look at him and see a future king or an impending disaster._

_They saw something more._

_Something that was just enough._

_And that's when Sitri felt it: the memory he'd forgotten._

The memory of being loved.


End file.
